The Colourful Night We Met
by Tisha P. Moon
Summary: Coda to S13 E10 Wayward Sisters: When Jody and Claire both struggle with their grief over Kaia, they turn to their friends Donna and Alex to help them handle it. Meanwhile, Patience has her own issues to work through and has to decide if she should take them on herself or ask for help... One instance of swearing, Dreamhunter (Kaia Claire), Destiel if you-squint-a-tiny-bit.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Knockin' On Heaven's Door

Jody quietly bustled around the kitchen, humming to herself as she put away the leftover takeout, cleaning up the few dishes and utensils that they'd actually needed.

 _Mama take this badge from me I can't use it anymore_

It had been a nice supper. Quiet, this was understandable given the circumstances, but nice. Claire had finally been able to join them, and Jody had appreciated her adopted daughters efforts to remain civil. Though she had caught her giving Patience quite a few looks.

 _It's gettin' dark Too dark to see_

Jody should have felt rested, recharged even. She'd just had a relatively drama-free meal with the few people she had left in the world. Her daughters and the company of her best friend should've set her mind at ease.

 _I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door_

But it hadn't. As she finished washing the dishes, her hands stilled in the soapy water. She gazed at nothing as she retreated into her thoughts, trying to make sense of her jumbled emotions.

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door_

"Hey." A soft voice interrupts her with a hand on her shoulder bringing her back. She glances down at her hands, still in the sink, and a slight flush creeps up her neck as she pulls them out. She looks at Donna as she hands her a towel, her friend showing nothing in her gaze except love and concern.

 _Knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door_

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Jody opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. _She_ can barely understand these feelings, let alone explain them to someone else.

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door_

Donna, noticing her struggle, said, "Hey, it's okay. Let's just sit ourselves down over here." They pull up chairs at the little table near the stove. Jody's hands immediately go to her face, attempting to hold back the tears she feel coming.

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door_

Donna sits there silently, patiently waiting for her to speak.

"I feel… loss," she finally gets out, her voice reminding her how close she already is to tears.

 _Mama put my guns in the ground I can't shoot 'em anymore._

She risks a glance at her fellow Sheriff. Donna just looked confused.

"Kaia."

Donna's mouth opens in a silent "o". Her expression turns soft as she reaches out a hand to Jody, who clings to it as tightly as possible.

 _That long black cloud is coming down I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door_

"But… it wasn't Claire," Jody chokes out. "Which I'm so relieved by, of course, but… but…"

"But you feel guilty, don't you?"

Jody nods shakily. Donna always did know how to cut through the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter. "She was a person too! Just as much as Claire!" The tears are flowing now. "And she was obviously in need of help… in need of a home… and she was gone so fast, you know?"

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door_

Donna simply nods, knowing that Jody just needs to get it out.

"She wasn't even here for what? A day? Before…" she coughs a little, not wanting to say it out loud. A hard swallow makes its way down her throat.

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door_

"Claire's taking it hard. Harder than she should, and I don't know how to help her! I never wanted her to feel…" Another swallow. "What I've felt. Like… like with my first family."

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door_

She feels warm hands take both sides of her face, and opens her eyes to see Donna crying with her, pain openly making a home on her face. But not pain for herself, Jody thinks. Pain for _her._ She continues.

"I know what it feels like to lose someone you were supposed to protect, supposed to take care of, and in such a…" She sobs. " Such a way that you can't prepare for… and… and…"

She feels a warm body press tight against her as Donna gets up from her chair and embraces her hurting friend. Jody can feel the tears wetting her hair, as Donna cries silently while comforting her sobbing friend as best she can.

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door_

Because they stick together. Jody's knows that Donna would never abandon her family in a time of need, so she doesn't either,. And so they both stay. Jody stays in her best friends embrace, desperately trying to make her feel the love she holds for her in her heart. And she's pretty certain that Donna's doing the same.

Because they are enough. They have to be.

 _Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door…_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Night We Met

THEN

" _I know what it feels like to lose someone you were supposed to protect, supposed to take care of, and in such a… such a way that you can't prepare for… and… and…" And Jody and Donna cry silently together, desperate to fit the pieces of their shattered hearts back together._

NOW

Claire only listens for a moment more after her adopted mother and mentor stop talking before whirling away from the kitchen door, heading upstairs as fast as she can.

She thought she'd managed to get her unwanted emotions under control, but overhearing Jody's heartbroken confession to Donna had brought it all back in a way that was far too real.

As she hurtles up the stairs, her brain latches onto the first thing it thinks of, attempting to take her mind _anywhere_ but where it currently is. Her brain latches onto a song.

 _I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt_

She just needs to get away, to get somewhere safe, where she can let the tears pricking at her eyes fall in private. So she heads to her bedroom.

 _I've been searching for a trail to follow, again Take me back to the night we met_

Breathing heavily, a few tears already sliding down her cheeks, she flings open the door to her old room, coming to an almost immediate halt. Because she'd forgotten one thing. _Her room_ was no longer her room.

There sat Patience on the edge of the bed, a bewildered expressionon her face even _before_ she looked up at Claire. _I swear confusion is her only mode,_ Claire thought, irritated at this stranger seeing her in her current state.

 _And then I can tell myself What the hell I'm supposed to do_

Before Patience could do more than open her mouth, Claire was already barging out the door with her hair flying behind her before an arm snaked out of an open doorway. Alex's hand grabbed hold of Claire's shoulder, spinning her in a 180º before yanking her into the room.

 _And then I can tell myself Not to ride along with you_

Before she had even hit the floor, Claire was a mess. She started sobbing, overcome for the moment with the weight of her grief. Great, full-body sobs wracked her frame, her hands coming up to hide what little of her face that her blonde strands didn't.

 _I had all of and then most of you Some and now none of you_

She soon found herself wrapped in a tight embrace, and for once, she let Alex hold her close.

 _Take me back to the night we met_

Only for a minute though. Then Claire sat up, pushed herself away. Prolonged physical contact wasn't something she enjoyed. Alex sat cross-legged on the floor next to her, hands in her lap, while Claire gets herself under control. Her sobs lessen and her eyes opened, slowly turning into a quiet sniff every now and then. She takes the tissue held out by a stoic Alex gratefully.

 _I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you_

"I tried calling Castiel." The admission comes quietly, after she's blown her runny nose a few times.

"And?" asks Alex.

 _Oh take me back To the night we met_

Claire shakes her head. "No answer. I don't get it, though. Sam and Dean didn't even mention him! If he isn't in trouble - which is the only reason he hasn't answered before - then why isn't he picking up?" Her blue eyes turn uneasily onto her sister's blue-green ones. "I'm worried he's in danger."

Alex swiftly holds up a hand. "Hey, whoa, slow down there." Her face takes on a soft, sympathetic look as she stares at her impulsive sister. "One thing at a time."

 _When the night was full of terror When your eyes were filled with tears_

Claire just stares back, fully aware of how puffy and red her eyes must be. How full of pain. But she meets her gaze unflinchingly, because it's _Alex_. They've seen each other in far worse states.

"Not to sound rude, but why do you care this much? We only knew her for a day." Alex says softly, trying to understand.

Claire's really not sure how to answer. "I... I don't really know." She looks down at her hands. "I mean, I guess I understood her, or something, you know? We were both on our own for a long time. We didn't really have anybody... except ourselves." She finally looks up at Alex. "She just needed somebody on her side! And I..." She looked down again, playing with her hands in her lap. "I promised I would be that somebody."

 _When you had not touched me yet Oh take me back to the night we met_

A hand stilled her own, as Alex gently rested her palm on Claire's fist, grabbing her attention.

"Hey. It's okay you know. I could see that you... maybe liked her." Alex stated the next with a smirk. "Maybe not Dean and Cas level, but..."

Claire snorted, a smile now lighting her splotchy features. "Please. No one can make bigger heart eyes at each other than those two."

 _I had all and then most you Some and now none of you_

Now it was Alex's turn to snort. Which just got Claire going again and pretty soon they were both doubled over on the floor, laughing at their memories of the two hunters. It was a while before they could catch their breath.

"But for real," Alex said, a small grin still on her face. "If you need to like, blow off some steam, we can find a case together. I'll help you."

 _Take me back to the night we met_

Claire frowned at her, making her confusion evident. "But you don't hunt."

"Not usually, no, but I figure any time you get cut up by monster claws is better than any time by your own blade," answers Alex, giving her chosen sister a look, which Claire pointedly ignores.

 _I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you_

Changing the subject, she retorts, "If you're coming, I won't have to worry about either." She gives her a soft smile, which Alex returns. They make eye contact for just a second before Claire's smile transforms into a smirk. "I'll be too busy keeping the monsters off your no-talent ass."

Pretend hurt appears on Alex' face. "You think I can't watch myself in a fight?!"

"Oh I know you can't, _nurse-Barbie_. Speaking of nurses, tell me working at that hospital is good for something! You scored any phone numbers yet?" Her eyes twinkle as she says it.

Alex splutters for a second, before retorting in kind, and pretty soon the two are back to talking about the usual things.

Because they don't need to talk about loss anymore. About who should've protected who, or guilt, or love, or sadness. No more pain, for now. Because that's what family does for each other. They help you through the tough times and the good ones, too.

Alex and Claire may not have been given the chance to choose much in their short lives, but they did choose each other. And they had each other when it mattered the most.

But little did they know, there was one person who didn't have that. Didn't know if they would ever have it again. And they'd been listening in the whole time...

 _Take me back to the night we met._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Colors

THEN

 _"Why do you care this much?" Alex says the last part softly, trying to understand._

 _Claire answered, "I guess I understood her, or something. You know, we were both on our own for a long time. We didn't really have anybody... except ourselves. She just needed somebody on her side! And I... I promised I would be that somebody."_

 _Alex and Claire may not have been given the chance to choose much in their short lives. But they did choose each other. And they had each other when it mattered most._

NOW

Patience came out of the vision, breathing hard. She clutched at her chest, desperately trying to fill her airways, as her mind raced to make sense of what she'd just seen. It had been... unnerving, to say the least.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed for better stability. "My life is insane," she states quietly to herself. So many new, ridiculous things to add to her quickly growing list of oh-this-exists. Psychics were real, and she was one of them. People - no, _monsters_ \- wanted to eat her, people she did and didn't know were dying in alternate realities, she'd shot a freaking gun! And... her dad no longer wanted her. Now that she isn't perfect.

That's why her vision hadn't made any sense. It had been about her father. And he'd looked... depressed?

One thing on top of another. It was just too much! She stares hard at the floor, trying to use the image to ground her as she struggles to take back control of her thoughts.

And that's when Claire barged in.

She jerks her head up just as the door slams into the wall, the act giving voice to what sounded like a lot of anger. But when Patience finally tore her gaze from the shaking door to the wayward huntresses face, she sees that it is not, in fact, anger of any kind. _What on earth could make_ her _cry?_ Patience wonders. But before she could even get her words out, Claire was gone, flying around the corner and leaving the door wide open.

Pulled by curiosity, and a strong desire for distraction from her chaotic state of mind, Missouri's granddaughter quickly gets off the bed and hurries to the door. Hearing a loud thud, like that of a door shutting, she peeks around the corner.

And then she heard it, in the stillness of the moment, that quiet, muffled sound that every person dreads. She heard sobbing.

Moving to stand with her ear against Alex's door, she listened in as the two strange sisters started speaking.

She thought perhaps about 10 minutes passed before the pain-ridden conversation made way for laughter and talk of potential crushes, and she moved away. Back to the guest bedroom.

She steps inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. Leaning her back against the door, she slowly sank down to the ground. In the silence, she realized the bedside radio was on.

 _You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink_

She was exhausted. She wanted to go to sleep, but her mind was buzzing with so much, all at the same time. Most prominent was the vision.

 _You're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink_

She'd been inside her house (well, her old house), moving through all the rooms as if searching for something. The entryway, the dining room, kitchen, nothing. Not a soul to be seen. But then she reached the living room.

 _Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seams_

Now, she hadn't seen her father wear jeans for _years_ , but he was wearing them in her vision. He was slouched down on the white, usually-pristine couch, one leg up on the coffee table with his arms crossed. His expression... how could she describe it? Honestly, if it had been anyone else, she would've said it looked like his only child had just been ripped away from him. She pinched her eyes shut at the quickly-forming headache. No. No, no, no, no, she couldn't deal with this.

 _And it's blue And it's blue_

She looked away from her father sitting on the couch, her gaze traveling around the room, taking in all the little details that had changed since she'd been there. It looked dirty. Unkempt. _Kind of like_ him _,_ her brain unhelpfully thought. She swatted it away, not wanting to dwell on such a possibility.

 _Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color He don't know what it means_

Instead she looked with disgust at the dirty bowls, plates, and glasses that were piled all around the room. At the house plants that clearly needed water, and have for several days now, judging by their colour. There were pillows knocked on the floor, blankets strewn about... what was going on here?! Her father always taught her that keeping your room (or desk, or any space that was yours) clean was essential because it was like an extension of yourself. It showed other's your personality, your character, and therefore the cleanliness of such spaces should be held to the highest standard. But this place was a mess.

 _And he's blue And he's blue_

She went back to looking at her dad before the vision could end. She noticed how wild his beard appeared now. How vacant the expression of his eyes was. They were just open, staring at nothing, yet still betraying the depth of utter sadness that flowed from the disheveled man like water. And somehow she just knew that she was what had caused this.

 _You said you'll never be forgiven 'till your [girl is] too_

She pulled herself from the memory sharply, digging her hands into the carpet as she breathed deeply. Concentrated.

 _And I'm still waking in the morning But it's not with you_

Her Dad had been the one to tell her to not come back. _He_ had closed that door, not her. He'd been the one who'd told her she needed to suppress the visions, that they had no place in their life. "They'll only bring trouble," he'd said. _Well, he wasn't wrong about that_ , she thought grimly.

 _You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink_

But he'd been the one who lied to her! Lied to her about her grandmother, telling her the truth only _after_ there was no possibility of salvaging any relationship she might've had with her. _I could've had a grandmother._ Her thoughts were bitter, full of anger at her father's ability to hold a grudge.

 _You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink_

But he'd appeared devastated! She dragged her hands down her face, back pressing sharply into the wood of the door, as she fought to gain control of her mind.

 _Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seams_

Suddenly she noticed the song playing on the radio, as a particular line grabbed her attention.

 _You were red and you liked me because I was blue But you touched me, and I became a lilac sky And you decided purple just wasn't for you_

It struck a chord. Something deep inside her cracked, just a little bit, as the enormity of those words hit her.

Her Dad had no longer wanted her when she became psychic. When she'd become purple. He'd tried to tamp it down, had tried to convince them both that she was still blue. Ever the perfect complement to his red. But all blue skies end in sunsets. Eventually, they just couldn't pretend anymore. Eventually all days end in a brilliant sunset.

She never would've let her inner turmoil show nearly so much (currently showing itself in her haggard, frazzled appearance) if she hadn't been alone, with her body blocking the only entrance. She could compose herself quickly if need be. She'd had a lifetime of practice at being perfect, after all.

 _Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams_

Patience doesn't know what her future currently holds. She didn't know if she could ever repair her relationship with her father, didn't even know if she wanted to try. But she knows that something has to change. She knows it has to be better than this.

 _And now he's so devoid of color He don't know what it means_

And she's pretty sure that if she lets them, these women she had eaten with, talked with, fought with, and shared a death with would accept her. Would be her new family. They would take care of her.

 _And he's blue And he's blue_

Maybe with the help of these wayward women, she could truly find herself. Could shore up all the cracks and fissures in her soul. Maybe she could find her place in this messed-up, monster-ridden world. Because isn't that what it's really about?

 _Everything is blue. Everything is blue._

THE END


End file.
